One of contemporary art's defining traits, it can be argued, is the multiplicity of its representations, themes, and topics. In its primary temples –galleries and art fairs– alone one can find a wide variety of artworks in different styles, forms, and approaches. They could be as diverse as any Hypermart nearest you. The inaccessibly conceptual, representation-ally Juxtapoz-ish, rabidly political, the highly innovative, the purely derivative, or just plain crappy art; name it, most likely someone has it. This leaves one to wonder, is there anything out there under the sun which cannot be portrayed or talked about in the realm of contemporary art? Does it have some sort of a blind spot?

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As varied as they could possibly be, anything that goes inside an exhibition space gets to be cut-off from everything else outside its walls. This act of exclusion re-stages the art object as unique fruits of unadulterated human agency worthy of deep aesthetic contemplation and a place behind your selfies – even if the one in question is as unhygienic as someone's soiled menstrual pads. They are presented as if their coming-into-being-ness and the aura that reeks from them are direct manifestations of the artist's alleged creative genius alone. Then there's this unassuming little folder lying in one of the space's corner called the “price list”. The one with some information in it along with each of the artworks' value are laid out in its quantifiable monetary form.

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Now let us zoom in our attention to these amounts laid out on paper and ask a few questions before proceeding. Do you think that wealth has a limited material basis (e.g. natural resources, human labor, property, etc.)? Also, would you agree that its concentration to the hands of a few means a lack of it somewhere else? Please click on the “continue reading” button if your answers to the questions are both yes.